


Don't Get Mad, Get Even

by ienablu



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Everybody Lives, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-10 18:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2035647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ienablu/pseuds/ienablu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After seeing memories of Marshal Pentecost having sex with his dad, Chuck decides to get even by sleeping with Mako.</p><p>It doesn't quite go as planned. Chuck is still trying to figure out whether or not that's a bad thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Get Mad, Get Even

**Author's Note:**

> With many thanks to [bloglike](http://bloglikejaeger.tumblr.com/)[something](http://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingsomething) for her invaluable read through, beta, and ego boost.

Striker Eureka gets the shit beat out of her, and so Gipsy Danger has to be the one to blow up the Breach, but they manage it, everyone makes it out alive, Operation Pitfall is a success.

For the past few months, Chuck had been preparing himself for what should have been a suicide mission, and the fact his father had ordered him and Pentecost to the escape pods bothers him a little bit.

The fact that Chuck knows – in explicit detail – why bothers him far more.

Chuck manages to hold his tongue until him and Pentecost have gone through decon, and are given a temporary clear bill are health. Pentecost needs to schedule additional testing, and Chuck paces outside the door.

He's at the end of the hall when he hears the door swing open. Pentecost strides down the opposite end of the hallway, and Chuck takes it at a light job. “Oi, Marshal,” he calls out, and he grabs the Marshal’s arm and whirls him around.

Pentecost looks down pointedly at Chuck’s hand until he drops it. Looking back up, he starts, “One, don’t you ever–”

Chuck’s seen this memory, and he fills in, “ever touch you again, two, don’t ever touch you again, yeah, I got that.”

“Three,” he continues, very calm, “don’t you ever interrupt me again.”

Chuck bristles. He bites back the first four responses that come to mind, before saying, as politely as he can manage, “Yes sir.”

Pentecost nods, satisfied. “Now, do you have a concern, Mr. Hansen?”

Chuck nearly flinches at the name. “Yeah,” he says. “When you said you carry nothing into the Drift, were you just full of shit, or did you mean to say ‘I carry nothing into the Drift except memories of boning your dad’?”

It comes out louder than planned. A few of the passing techs turn to stare, before hurrying on their way.

Pentecost stares at him. “I thought you knew,” is all he says.

“Yeah, no, not really. After the first three times I had to see my dad shagging my mom, I got pretty good at not chasing that RABIT.” He blinks. “Wait.” What Chuck saw in the Drift was just an end-of-the-world we-may-die fuck after the battle of Hong Kong. If Pentecost is implying that Chuck would have seen them fucking before, then…  “How long have you two been shagging each other?”

Chuck is definitely yelling at this point. Pentecost doesn't remark on it, only says, “I believe there are some matters you and your father actually do need to discuss.” And with that, Pentecost turns and walks away.

Chuck stares after him.

Chuck decides he’s not going to ask, he doesn’t want to know.

\+ + +

His dad finds him three hallways later, and all but tackles him into a hug.

Max is barking happily at his feet.

His dad is clinging to him.

This is the most physical contact they've had shared in months, and the most sentiment either of them have expressed in just as long.

It should be a touching moment, but all Chuck can think of is the last time his dad embraced someone.

It was Pentecost.

He’s never going to look at his dad the same way again.

“Yes, I’m still here,” Chuck says, in response to his dad’s teary confessions. He gingerly pats his dad on the back, not quite ready or willing to return the hug.

There are still some final Drift simulations the PPDC is asking for. Him and Stacker have a simulation scheduled next week.

Chuck decides he’s not going to suffer alone. 

\+ + +

The idea of sleeping with Mako Mori is daunting, because with the way he’s treated her, the only time he can see her coming in contact with his johnson would be to rip it off.

He decides he’s going to have to be very careful; be nice to her for a few days before propositioning anything.

But Hong Kong, along with the rest of the world, has been partying non-stop over the cancelled apocalypse. There's a bar a block away from the Shatterdome that becomes an unofficial PPDC acquisition, and an open port means the best imported Australian beer, and plenty of people to press more and more drinks into his hand.

By the time Chuck sees Mako sitting at the bar, he's forgotten all his plans regarding any sort of tact of decorum. He just pours himself into the seat next to her, and waves down another drink.

“Kanpai,” he says, toasting her.

She looks suspicious, but it's not as hard a look it's been in the past. She raises her own drink, clinks it against his. "Kanpai."

Chuck finishes half his drink, then turns to regard her. She's hot, and that's not just the massive amounts of alcohol speaking. She's always been hot, and he's always thought so. He told her once, too – back before either of them entered the Jaeger Academy, back before he realized they would never pilot together. He was wrong, then, he supposes.

It doesn't burn as much as he expected it to.

He breaks their eye contact for a minute, trying to figure out what he really wants to say, before he tells her, "Congratulations."

She frowns at him, waiting.

Chuck gestures with his beer. "Taking down Slattern, closing the Breach, saving the world."

Mako's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Thank you," she says, after a moment. "And thank you, for your help. We could not have done it without you."

Chuck doesn't know how to reply – it's a sincere comment, that deserves better than anything he can manage this many drinks in. He just makes a vague noise of agreement, and finishes the rest of his drink.

"Any plan on what you want to do after?" she asks.

Chuck has been avoiding anyone who would ask him that. "No idea. You?"

“Raleigh and I–”

Chuck snorts, unable to help it.

Her gaze goes cool.

Fuck tact, and fuck decorum. “You’re not going to be able to get what you want from him,” Chuck tells her. And because he's had too much to drink, he continues, “I bet you’d be a beast in the sheets. Wild. Frisky. A biter. There’s no way _Ra_ leigh is going to be able to keep up with you.”

“And you think you would?” she asks, sweetly.

Right now Chuck has had far too many to get it up, let alone _keep_ it up, but he figures it would be best not to comment on that. “You would probably manhandle me the entire way, make me your bitch in return for that bitch comment, and I’m not sure I could keep up with that, but I would try.”

He’d been unaware either of them have leaned in, but now they’re centimeters away.

This is not the first time they’ve been this close to kissing.

To his surprise, he wants it more more than he did then.

She reaches up, caresses his cheek for a moment, and then slaps him.

Chuck lets out an undignified noise of pain.

“Everything okay here?”

Chuck groans.

“Everything is fine, Raleigh,” Mako replies.

Chuck doesn’t even turn to greet him, just waves down the bartender for another drink.

\+ + +

Chuck spends most of the next day marveling as it finally hits him that the Breach is actually closed, playing with Max, and nursing a hangover and sore cheek.

Paparazzi are camped outside the Shatterdome, and Chuck decides against attempting to go out and go to a bar, instead spending his evening blowing off steam in the Kwoon trial room. There's no need for him to continue training in a tradition that has just been rendered useless, but he enjoys the way it makes his muscles burn to do the sets in quicker and quicker succession.

He notices Mako at the edge of the mat early on, but he doesn't comment on her presence, and she doesn't interrupt his training.

It's only after he's cooled down that she comments, “You were right, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Chuck says, idly.

Mako looks unimpressed.

Chuck tries to look contrite. “About what?”

“Raleigh.”

Chuck blinks. “Oh?” It takes a moment to click. " _Oh_."

She walks over to stand in front of him. She stares up at him for a few moments, sizing him up, before rocking up onto the balls of her feet, splaying her hands against his shoulders to steady her, kissing him.

His brain shorts out, briefly, but next thing he knows his hands are on her hips, and he's matching her kiss for bruising kiss.

They somehow make it out of the gym, and halfway to her room – closer than his, she had informed him – before he has to pull back.

Because for all that Mako had made the first move, and all that she's responded positively to Chuck palming her arse, something about the situation is making Chuck uneasy. “You know I’m mostly doing this because I’m Drifting with the Marshal tomorrow, and I want to get back at him?”

“Yes.”

The immediacy of the answer startles Chuck. “And you’re okay with that?”

"Yes." Mako gives him a predatory grin. “I’m just doing this to make you my bitch. Are you okay with that?”

Chuck knows the comment was out of line, and he will apologize for it, but he is looking forward to begging for her forgiveness first. He nods. "I think I can be, yeah."

\+ + +

Chuck alarms the J-Techs who have to screw him into the shell, he’s grinning so hard.

All except one, who had seen the dark bite marks on his neck. "That good?" she asks, under her breath.

"The best of my life," Chuck tells her.

She snorts. "You sure you're still going to be so excited about it after the Marshal sees it?"

Chuck just grins harder. He almost skips to the Conn-Pods.

“Initiating Drift in three… two…”

\+ + +

They disconnect, and Pentecost just turns to him, and stares at him for a long minute.

Chuck's face hurts from grinning so hard.

“Everything alright down there?” comes Choi’s voice from the intercom.

“Everything’s fine, Mr. Choi,” Chuck says. The words sound strange coming from his voice, and it’s jarring enough that Pentecost turns away from Chuck.

Pentecost relays some orders to Choi, and dismisses Chuck, not sparing him a glance.

Chuck is still beaming as the J-Techs strip him down from his drive suit.

\+ + +

Mako sits down next to him in the caf for lunch. It’s the first time she’s done it in five years.

Chuck stares at her, trying to figure out if it's a good or bad sign.

“I take it the simulation went well,” Mako says.

She doesn’t sound angry, and Chuck hazards, "I thought so. He talk to you about it yet?”

“Sensei told me he respects my choices, and will continue to as long as I respect myself.”

Chuck wrinkles his nose. “Should I be insulted?”

Mako shakes her head. “You were clear about your intentions.”

It seems to be a good place to let the conversation drop. Chuck turns back to his potatoes, and they eat together for some time in silence.

He's trying to figure out if she wants to meet up later her own simulation, when it occurs to Chuck that, "Raleigh is going to see us in your simulation, you know."

“I know. We already discussed it.”

Chuck blanches. “He knows.”

“Of course. I asked if he wouldn’t mind.”  
 “He knows,” Chuck repeats. “And he’s alright with it?”

Mako narrows her eyes. “Of course,” she repeats. “I would not have slept with you if he was not. We... came to an agreement.”

"What kind of arrangement?"

She smiles. "An open one."

But before he can ask for any clarification, a call for Gipsy Danger comes over the PA system.

Mako smiles even wider, and walks off.

\+ + +

Chuck is planning out how to best track down Mako while avoiding Raleigh, when he runs into his dad, who he has also been kind of avoiding.

His dad marches him back to their still-shared quarters, and snaps the door shut. “Sit down, Chuck,” he barks.

Chuck is twenty-one years old, and he helped save the goddamn world, he feels like he shouldn’t have to be ordered around by his dad.

Still, he sits on his bed.

“Do you have a problem with me and Stacker?” he asks, his words laced with anger, his expression hard.

Chuck had been graciously willing to not talk about the issue, but if his dad wants to confront him about it, then Chuck's not going to pull his punches. “A bit, yeah,” he says, voice hot.

“What about it?”

“He makes his big speech about bringing nothing to the Drift, we’re getting hooked into the Conn-Pods and I’m preparing myself for the inevitability that, between the two cat-fours and blowing up the Breach, I am probably going to _die_ , and then suddenly we’re Drifting, and I’m watching you take it up the arse! When I’ve got less than an hour to live, I don’t want that to be my last memory!”

His dad stares at him for a few moments. “Other than the visuals,” he says, slowly, the anger fading from his voice, “do you have any problem with me and Stacker?”

“No,” Chuck says, suddenly feeling off-balance. “Of course not.” This confrontation isn't what he was expecting it to be, and the fight floods out of him. He thinks this is the point where he should be saying something about how his dad deserves to be happy. Instead, he just shifts his weight nervously as his father stares him down.

“According to the UN, they're not looking for jaeger pilots to take part of the Drift simulations in the future. If this is true, would you mind if Stacker and I...?”

“I don’t know want to know about it,” Chuck says. “But yeah. If you two…” He’s not going to say it, because then he’d think about it. “It wouldn’t bother me.”

His dad sits down next to him, and hugs him.

Chuck – awkwardly – returns it.

\+ + +

It seems like the end of the issue, until two nights later.

Chuck is sure there’s a mature, adult way to respond to walking in on a parent having sex, but in all honesty, Chuck isn’t all that mature. Also they’re on his bed. So he throws a hand over his eyes and yells, “For fuck’s sake, Marshal!”

He slams the doors to their quarters closed and stomps all the way to Mako’s room.

He bangs on the door to her quarters. “Mori!” No response, so he bangs again. “Mori, our dads are screwing, and they’re on my bed, let me in.” 

Sleeping with Mako won’t be a _fuck you_ to Pentecost, not like their first time had been, but it'll make him feel better. Sore, and slightly bruised, but better.

The door opens, and Chuck storms in, and stops halfway.

Raleigh is on Mako’s bed, shirtless, down to his boxers, and hard.

Chuck is trying to figure out what to say when Mako steps in front of him, and pulls him down into a kiss. It's deep and demanding, and Chuck is panting when Mako finally pulls back. He really should say something, but his brain has gone offline, and it takes a few moments to reboot. 

Mako takes the opportunity to press in again, her hands settling against his neck, fingers tilting his head down for a better angle.

When she pulls back, Chuck finally manages to say, “I thought you two...”

Mako smiles up at him. “We came to an agreement.”

Warm hands slide up under Chuck’s shirt. “And we’re hoping to come to another one,” Raleigh says, breath hot against the shell of Chuck’s ear.

This is not really the direction Chuck was expecting the evening to go.

But Mako is tracing a nail around a fading bruise and Raleigh is running his fingers along Chuck's ribs and Chuck doesn't really think that's a bad thing.

"I can be okay with that."

\+ + +

There’s a banging on the door.

“Get the door,” Chuck says.

“You’re closer,” Raleigh replies, pressing in closer against Chuck's side.

 “Get the fucking door, Becket.”

 Raleigh sighs heavily against Chuck neck, and rolls over him to get off the bed. He pulls on the nearest pair of boxers. They're Chuck's.

It's too early in the morning to be as turned on as Chuck is. He shuffles into the warm spot in the middle of the bed, and grimaces as it brings him next to Mako’s feet. He doesn't know why she insisted on sleeping with her head at the foot of the bed, but it had made things slightly less crowded for the three people trying to fit on a bed built for one.

The door swings open.

“Herc,” Raleigh greets, awkwardly.

Chuck turns to the door.

His dad says something Chuck can’t quite hear.

Raleigh is wearing Chuck’s boxers, and is covered in bite marks as he shows Chuck’s dad in.

Chuck feels a warm burst of pride and satisfaction. He beams at his dad.

“I propose a ceasefire,” his dad says, shortly.

“About what?”

“You and Stacker agree to stop this juvenile one-upmanship--”

“He started it,” Chuck points out, pushing himself up to sitting.

“Technically I started it, but regardless,” he adds loudly, as Chuck makes a face, “it is childish, and we are ending it. We are all adults here. Tie a sock around the handle or lock the doors or both, then we can go about our relationships in a healthy, respectful way. Alright?” he asks, looking at him expectantly.

Mako is also looking at him expectantly, as is Raleigh.

"Alright," Chuck says, ignoring how they both seem to be extremely satisfied. Instead, he hastens to add, "But you were–"

"Chuck," Mako interrupts, poking him in the side with her foot, "it's too early in the morning to argue." 

He grabs at her foot. It's out of reflex, but she gives a squeak as he does. And a softer squeak as he runs his thumb over the arch of her foot. 

Raleigh's gaze is intent as it flicks between the two of them.

Maybe it isn't too early in the morning after all.

His dad doesn’t look impressed. “Sock?”

Chuck grins. “Sock.”


End file.
